


Sleeping Memories

by TheCrimsonJaguar



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Baroness is here too, But he's oddly chill with it?, Cagney is here now, Cuphead is a cinnamonroll, Dice is a potty mouth, Dice is forgetful, Gen, Memory Loss, Mugman is a cinnamonroll, Pain, The Devil's a dick, They are nice, first fic on AO3, he's so confused, like a lot of pain, swearing!, y'all have been WARNED
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-31 08:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrimsonJaguar/pseuds/TheCrimsonJaguar
Summary: Don't fight with your boss, kids. Especially if your boss is the actual Devil. It doesn't usually end well for anybody.Take King Dice for instance, he got into a fight with his boss and ended up being thrown out of Hell, out of his casino, and then out of his right mind.Luckily he had a couple of allies to help him out.





	1. My Hand Slipped

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, forgive me if the formatting is wonky.   
> I still have no freakin' clue how this site works.

There’s not much to do in hell, surprisingly enough. I stood stiff and straight, like a board, even though I was still sore and pained. I watched and waited patiently for the boss’ meeting to end. He had to discuss some arrangements with some of the higher classed demons. What was he discussing? The fuck should I know. 

 

I had been waiting for at least four hours now. It was terribly boring. It also left me alone with my thoughts for too long. That was practically the last thing I wanted considering the only thing my battered mind could think about was my crushing defeat at the hands of some twelve-year-olds. It was too humiliating and I found myself looking at everything and practically glaring at any lesser demon that happened to cross my path.

 

It made me feel slightly better about everything. To know that  _something_ still feared me. 

 

Bored, stiff, and tired and bitter. I was getting tempted to just sit on the scorched ground when the huge Hell Door -Hell Gate?- opened and shined bright red light out in the hall. I heard shushed whispering and then an abrupt silence as a clawed hand pushed the door open the final stretch. 

 

The Devil himself stepped out in front of me, and shut the door behind him. I sighed and leaned back against the wall, waiting for him to speak. I technically didn’t have to serve him anymore considering that my contract was burned, but we both knew that I had nowhere left to go. There was no use getting rid of me when I could still be of use. 

 

Boy was I wrong.

 

He looked a bit far worse than I did, those two cups could really pack a punch when they wanted to. His cracked horn and an arm in a sling, he looked down on me, as menacing as ever. He looked disappointed, like it was my fault for his defeat. I stared back, knowing my eyes were the only thing that could challenge his. 

 

We stood staring at each other for a solid five minutes before the shouting started. I was rather surprised by the immediate barrage of fangs and teeth. I immediately recoiled, which was a mistake as it only gave the Devil the upper hand. He screamed about my insubordination and my betrayal. I stood back up and screamed just as loud. I screamed about his overconfidence and his continuous hiring of children to do his dirty work. 

 

It wasn’t going to end well, and we both knew it. At least this time I was right. The confrontation suddenly became very violent as the Devil’s exaggerated movements became a low blow to the stomach, and then it was an all out brawl. It was the Devil’s injured partner against the injured Devil himself, and despite my overwhelming power, it ended the way everybody expected it to. 

 

I lost. Very spectacularly, might I add, because it was nothing like my defeat against those two cups. I was hoisted by the neck and thrown through a wall with a strength I didn’t know the Devil had retained.

 

I went soaring through the wall, then another. And another. And another. Soon I was  somehow out of Hell and outside the casino and arching through the air. There was a moment of strange calmness in my chest as time seemed to freeze halfway through my ark. Then, there was darkness as I face planted into the cement.  

 

At least I wasn’t bored anymore. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was on the ground. I was cold and wet. My head hurt something bad, and I could faintly hear whispering. More questions were raised as I tried to peel my face from the ground. There were porcelain chips on the ground. I reached up to my face to find, indeed, that it was cracked and at least partially splintered. Ouch. 

 

I struggled to sit on my knees, my head throbbing too much to move. I finally worked up the energy to face whoever was whispering. Except my vision was suddenly blurred by rain. That explained why I was cold and wet. It was raining. I coughed suddenly, my aching chest shuddering with every breath. 

 

My coughing only increased when accidentally inhaled some rain. I was hacking for a minute or two, before a hand reached out and patted my back. I felt the rain stop, but I still heard it fall. Confused, I came to the conclusion that someone was holding an umbrella over me. Someone was helping me. Who though?

 

I looked up again. I saw two young boys looking at me strangely. It was strange because they were looking at me with curiosity, fear, and sympathy all at once. I tilted my head them, trying to figure out the even stranger sense of deja vu. These two cups seemed familiar. 

 

“...Are you okay…?” The blue one asked. The boy in red elbowed him.

 

“Of course he’s not okay! He looks like he just went through Hell and back!” The red one standing next to him snapped. 

 

“Considering who he is… that’s probably not far from the truth…” The blue one replied.

 

I coughed a bit more, and then turned to face them completely. They took a step back, as if fearing I would eat them or something, and took with them the shelter of their umbrella. They were quick to fix their mistake however, as the blue one held out his hand a bit farther to offer back the dry space.

 

“Th-Thanks, kid.” I said, coughing a bit. The red one reached into his pocket and pulled out a cough drop, and handed it to me. I took it gently and nodded to him, silently expressing my thanks. Popping the drop into my mouth I asked;

 

“Why’re you helping me, by the way?” 

 

“Well, uh, Elder Kettle always said to give people another chance…” The blue one said hesitantly.  

 

“And I mean, you don’t have your contract anymore… so…” The red one started. They both looked at me expectantly, like I was going to jump up and fight them. Why did they keep doing that? 

 

“And who are you?” I asked. It was a simple question. One that didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out. 

 

They both made a little gasp, and their faces were the definition of surprised. Not shocked, just surprised. 

 

The blue one leaned over and whispered something to his partner, and the red one whispered back. I couldn’t actually hear much of what they were saying over the pounding rain. They turned back to me, a bit more pity in their eyes than fear. 

 

“So um…” The blue one was at a loss. “I’m Mugman… and this is my brother; Cuphead.”

 

“You should… come with us. I don’t think the folks around here are going to help you much.” The red one said. I nodded. That made sense. 

 

Why did that make sense? 

 

“Do you… know who you are…?” Mugman asked. 

 

No. 

 

No I did not. 

 

I didn’t even _think_ of that. 

 

Did I even _have_ a name? 

 

Why wasn’t this the _first_ question I asked? 

 

_How_ did I get _here?_

 

_ Who the Hell am I?  _

 

“Whoa! Whoa! Don’t hurt yourself!” Cuphead had removed my iron grip on my fractured head. I didn’t even realize I had clutched my head so hard it started to crack again. 

 

“...We should go to our house now, I _think_ we can get Kettle to let him stay until he’s better.” Mugman said to Cuphead. He took my hand. Then he looked at my legs. 

 

“Can you walk?” He asked. I studied my feet for a second and then slowly, shakily, I stood up. I towered over the boys. I was at least six feet taller than them. I was back out in the rain because their umbrella was too short. I nodded. 

 

“Then let’s go!” Cuphead said, his face brightening. “Let’s go, Dice!” 

 

_Dice?_ Was _that_ my name? That sounded… right. Yea, my name is Dice. Let’s go with that. 

 

Mugman took my hand and Cuphead led the way. The rain started to clear up and I saw sunlight creep through the clouds. Like the sky was starting to welcome me. 

 

I looked back at the cups, and noticed how Mugman had to tiptoe to hold my hand. I lowered myself slightly to let him walk normally. I don’t think he noticed, but at least he wasn't walking like goon anymore.

 

This was very strange. I still had so many questions, and so far had had barely gotten answer to ‘ _what’s my own fucking name_ ’. 

 

Oh well. I was sure things would work out in the end.


	2. Probably

Their house was tiny.

 

It looked like a little mushroom sitting in a field of trees. Mostly because the house was _actually_ shaped like a mushroom and was in a forest. It was boring and dull, and I expected us to walk right past it. But no, this tiny cabin is where they lived, and I assumed where this ‘Elder Kettle’ they talked about lived too. 

 

We stopped right in front of it, and Mugman finally let go of my hand. I didn’t know why he had been holding it in the first place. I had tried to pry his mitt off of mine multiple times, but for some reason his grip was as strong as steel. He would look at me each time, like he was making sure I wasn’t gone. 

 

Mugman walked over to his brother and whispered something to him. The rain had stopped a while ago and I could faintly hear their conversation. They were talking about the Kettle guy again, and how they’d break the news to him. 

 

I was probably the breaking news.

 

I stood there awkwardly for a minute, and let my mind wander. 

 

_ My name is probably Dice.  _

 

Probably. 

 

_ I was probably in a fight. _

 

Probably. 

 

_ I probably lost said fight.  _

 

Probably.

 

_Said fight probably knocked my memories lose._   

 

Probably. 

 

I looked down at my gloved hands. They had two black buttons on each. I was wearing a tattered purple suit. It was covered in mud, and soaked through and through. I considered what I did know, and found that I looked kinda like a hotel clerk for a theme park. _Snazzy_ , but not practical for fighting. That was what I thought before I tugged at my sleeve. A card fell out and onto the ground. I reached down to pick it up, but it surprised me when it got up on it’s own, lept on my hand and slid itself back into my sleeve. The card had seemed a bit panicked, like it was _apologetic_ for falling out of my coat. 

 

Any previous thoughts were abandoned as I immediately began to thoroughly inspect my jacket. I was interrupted by the boys finishing their conversation and turning back to me.  

 

“Okay, I’m gonna go in and talk to Elder Kettle. You wait out here with Cuphead.” Mugman said, “Then when I come out, everyone gets introduced and we get you patched up!” He had a cheery smile on his face. 

 

“My name is Dice, right?” I asked suddenly. He nodded. 

 

“You remember your name! That’s gotta be good.” Cuphead said. 

 

“So have we met before, then?” I asked. The brothers paused, suddenly looking uncomfortable. They glanced at each other. 

 

“Can you hold on a sec, please?” Cuphead grabbed his brother by the handle and darted a few yards away. They began whispering again. I was getting kinda annoyed by all the secrecy.  

 

They huddled together and I watched as Mugman said something and Cuphead sharply elbowed him in the ribs. Then Cuphead let out a sigh and they both walked back over to me. 

 

“So, um, yea. We’ve met you before. It was uuhh… an _interesting_ experience.” Mugman started. 

 

I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. They knew who I was, but had only met me once before. I must’ve left a lasting impact. 

 

“That’s all we know… _so_ …” Cuphead looked down. “Sorry…”

 

I felt like there was something off with that last statement. It was a little prickling feeling in the back of my throat. It was probably nothing.  

 

The front door opened. In the doorway stood an old kettle with a watering can. He looked around and spotted the cup boys, then he saw me. He frowned.

 

I assumed this was the Kettle guy they were talking about. 

 

“Boys! What are you two doing out? You are supposed to be resting!” He said this with a scowl, but his voice betrayed him. He sounded mildly amused, like he was scolding a bird for flying. I knew at once that this man was as nice as they come. 

 

“Sorry, Elder Kettle sir.” The boys chorused in unison. I glanced between them, noting once more how I was a giant compared to my surroundings.

 

“And who’s your new pal?” He asked, pointing up at me. “You two better not have been the ones to rough him up like that.” 

 

“We found him! He was like this we got there!” Cuphead said quickly. Mugman looked like he wanted to object, but stopped himself and nodded. 

 

“H-He looked like he needed help, so we brought him here.” Mugman said. “We can help him, right?” 

 

Elder Kettle paused for a moment. He looked up at me and examined my face. I looked back at him. I couldn’t read his expression. He then slowly nodded. 

 

“Yes, yes. It’s always good to help someone in need. Let’s get you inside, Mr…?” He was asking for my name. 

 

“...Dice?” I responded. I didn’t like how unsure of myself I sounded. He smiled though and set the watering can down. 

 

“Were you going to water the plants? It was raining earlier.” I asked. 

 

“Oh no. I borrowed Mr. Cagney’s watering can a while back and only just found it today! I was going to give it back to him.” He said. 

 

_ Who the Hell names their kid Cagney.  _

 

* * *

 

 

An hour later I was sitting on the floor covered in bandage wraps. Apparently Kettle had known a bit of magic and made a quick tonic that would help heal my chipped face. The bandages were mostly from keeping any more porcelain chips from falling off, not that there were many left. I already felt a thousand times better than when I had woken up, though I still had a headache. 

 

I was holding a cup of hot cocoa, which I was _not_ going to think about where it was made. The brothers also had their drinks, but directly _in their heads_. They were drinking it through their straws. I wasn’t going to think about that either. 

 

Their house was not as small as it seemed from the outside, which was good because from the outside it looked as if there was only one room. But their house was actually very spacious, and I only had to duck my head a little for me to fit. I was _not_ going to think about the weird space paradox that was happening for that to happen. 

 

I decided, _for now at least_ , I wasn’t going to think much about anything. My head hurt too much for that. I would get answers later. When I was much less tired and stiff, hopefully. 

 

And I was _definitely not_ going to examine my jacket for sapient cards tonight. 

 

Maybe tomorrow. 

 

“So Dice, do you remember how you came to your current state?” Kettle said, walking into the room. He held a plate of steaming cookies. 

 

“No, sadly. I’m not even sure if _‘Dice’_ is my real name.” I said. I eyed the cookies. I had just realized how hungry I felt. 

 

“Well, it’ll do for now. Why don’t you just make yourself cozy, while I go prep the guest room. I get the feeling you’re gonna be staying with us for a while.” He said, setting the plate on the coffee table. The cup brothers both pounced on the cookies, grabbing one each and promptly dipping them in their heads.

 

I grabbed three and ate them all in one bite. They were small, but delicious. 

 

“Alright then. Thank you for your hospitality, I suppose.” I said. The old Kettle nodded with a smile and walked out again.

 

I looked back at the plate of cookies and contemplated taking more. There were only six left, and I figured I could take four and leave two for the brothers. 

 

“Did you just eat three of Elder Kettle’s cookies, _all at once!?_ ” Cuphead asked incredulously. “These things are _huge!"_  He held up his cookie, which hid half his face. 

 

“So is the Kettle your _dad_ , or…?” I asked. He seemed a _little_ old to be their dad. 

 

“He adopted us!” Mugman said, chewing through his treat. 

 

“Yea, he’s great dad!” Cuphead added. “Or would he be a grandpa…?” 

 

“How’d he adopt you?”

 

“We were in baskets on his porch, real mysterious like too. No note or anything!” Cuphead said excitedly. 

 

“Yea, and Elder Kettle said that he went inside the house for _one minute_ , and when he came back out, we were just _there!_ ” Mugman added. 

 

This struck me as odd. Parents disowning their kids was one thing, children just _appearing_ at someone’s doorstep was another. 

 

“There really wasn’t a note? Then did Kettle name you himself or-”

 

“Nah, our names were written on our basket blankets. I guess that _kinda_ counts as a note… but ehh.” 

 

I nodded. Very curious information. But not tonight, not going to give myself a headache. I shoveled two more cookies into my mouth. 

 

“These are really good.” I said.

 

“I know, right?” Cuphead agreed. “It’s his secret recipe. He only ever makes them when we’ve been really good-”

 

“The guest room is ready!” Elder Kettle interrupted. “I don’t think we have a spare change of clothes for you, but I’ll go into town tomorrow and get something. Wouldn’t want you running around in a muddy suit all the time, would we?” 

 

“No, I suppose. Thank you though. I don’t know why you would go through all the trouble just to help someone you just met- but thank you.” I said. 

 

“Oh ho! You should always try to help people in need. Why would you be any different? Now, the guest room is upstairs, down the hall, last door on the right. Everything should ready, if not a bit small for you, and the bathroom is directly across from your door.” Elder Kettle said with a smile. 

 

I nodded again, and stood up. Careful not to leave a square hole in the ceiling, I went to my room. 

 

Opening my door, I was met with a very nice little room that showed it’s years of disuse. _Little_ being the key word, I seriously doubted that I would be able to fit _half_ my body onto that bed the moment I saw it. I immediately dismissed the thought, I was too tired to care if my feet got cold.

 

Slowly taking my jacket off, then practically ripping off everything else, I flopped on the bed. My legs dangled off of it and onto the floor, but didn’t care at all. Sleep consumed my mind in mere seconds.

 

* * *

 

 

Elder Kettle watched as the tall giant of a die walked up the stairs, and disappear down the hall. He only turned back to his kids once he heard the guest room door click shut. He looked at the boys with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Can either of you tell me why the Devil’s right hand has _amnesia?_ ” He asked, his voice low. The brothers squirmed under his gaze. 

 

“We don’t… _know_ exactly? I don’t think we beat him up _that_ b-badly…” Cuphead said.

 

“Yea, an-and we didn’t mess up his head that bad either!” Mugman added.  

 

Elder Kettle sighed. 

 

“I’m not saying it was you who did it, boys. I was just wondering if you knew who did.” Kettle explained. The brothers nodded. 

 

“If anything, I’d reckon it was the Devil himself. Probably threw him out in a fit of rage.” Kettle scowled. “That lousy demon wouldn’t know loyalty if it hit him in the face. And King Dice is the most loyal servant of his I know of.” 

 

Elder Kettle scratched his head for a moment.

 

“Which isn’t saying much, actually.” 

 

“So he can stay?” Mugman asked.

 

“Of course! He can stay until he’s better, or until he remembers at least. Whichever comes first.” Kettle said, waving off the question like it was obvious. The cup and mug whooped. They liked a happy ending.

 

“But I must ask, why didn’t you two tell him who he was?”

 

They stopped whooping. They both looked down.

 

“Well, we thought that if we told ‘im, he’d remember and attack us.” Cuphead explained.

 

“And I thought if we could get him to be a _good guy_ before he remembers he’s a _bad guy_ , he’d stay a good guy.” Mugman said. 

 

“You’re going to have to tell him eventually.” Kettle said. “It’s not good to keep secrets like that. And if I were you, I’d tell him sooner than later. Amnesia is never permanent, you know.”

 

“Can’t you tell him, Elder Kettle?” Mugman asked.

 

“No sir, I cannot. You’re the ones who found him, he’s _your_ responsibility now.” The brothers frowned when he said this. 

 

“But what if we tell him and he remembers and attacks us?! We don’t wanna beat him up _twice!_ ”  Cuphead pleaded. 

 

“Like _I’d_ be any better for dealing with that? Besides, you boys _saved his life_. He probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer out there if it weren’t for you two. A debt like that doesn’t go unpaid.” Kettle explained.

 

“Well, I guess you’re right. It never hurts to help, right Mugman?”

 

“Right, Cuphead.” 

 

Elder Kettle smiled. He patted both their head affectionately, and then nudged them towards the stairs. 

 

“You two best get off to bed, now. You’ve got an important day ahead of you tomorrow.”

 

“That’s what you said yesterday!” Cuphead said. 

 

“Well, was I wrong?” 

 

“Well, no…” 

 

“Then off to bed with you! It’s ten minutes past your curfew.” He said. Cuphead giggled and ran up the stairs, Mugman close behind. Except Mugman slowed and then stopped halfway up. He looked back at Elder Kettle, a frown on his face.

 

“Elder Kettle?”

 

“Yes, Mugman?”

 

“What happens if the _townspeople find out?_ What do we do then?” 

 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Mugman. I wouldn’t worry about it tonight.” 

 

“ _But what if-_ ”

 

“I can’t predict the future, Mugman. I know things are going to get _wild_ soon, but I don’t know how or when. And if push comes to shove, we’ll do all we can to help someone in need.” 

 

“...Will he be alright, do you think?”

 

“He will. I know of it. I know because good people inspire good actions, and you’re the best kids around to help inspire folks. Now off to bed with you, before the sun rises.”

 

Mugman smiled and walked up the stairs to his bedroom. Elder Kettle watched him go, and then took a seat himself on the chair. He took a moment to enjoy the calm before the inevitable storm. He smiled as he thought of his boys, they were helping someone even though he hurt them before. They were very brave. He was so proud of them.

 

Then he thought of his guest in the room upstairs. His smile widened a bit. He smiled because King Dice had just become _evidence_. Evidence that _nobody_ was born evil, not even the Devil’s right hand man.

 

_That_ was something to be happy about. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to wait a bit before posting this, but I was too excited. So forgive any spelling errors in this chapter, as well as any spelling errors in the last chapter as well. Please give me your feedback, criticism or otherwise. I'm always looking to improve! Hope you like reading so far, I had fun writing!
> 
> Here's bit of unused dialogue I didn't like:
> 
> "King Dice? I'm royalty??"
> 
> "Well, uhh... we're not really sure."
> 
> "That might just be your actual name, so..."
> 
> "Who in the fuck names their kid King?? What if he turns out to be total loser? Then the name King would just be disappointing!"
> 
> "Well you might actually be a king-" 
> 
> "What kind of royalty wears a bow tie???"


	3. Breakfast and Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much in this chapter, but much more content next chapter.

I was in a pitch black void. Everywhere I turned, there was nothing. Endless nothing, endless darkness, and deafening silence.

 

Then there was a suffocating hand over my face, blocking off any and all air into my lungs.

 

I didn’t squirm. I didn’t even twitch. There was a strange acceptance in my chest as another hand began to pull my legs downward.

 

I felt everything pull and stretch, and I had to ignore the growing ache that was growing in my spine.

 

Then, with a sound that sounded like a popping balloon, my head fell off my body.

 

* * *

  


I sat up. I clutched my head. It was still on my body.

 

I took several deep breaths. Like I had just been drowning and was gasping for air.

 

I calmed myself. I let go of my head, and I slumped back down. I was fine. I took a minute just to breathe

 

What a strange dream, though. It had somehow seemed real, but was too unearthly to be so. It was probably symbolic of something. Of what, I didn’t care.

 

Holy shit, my head hurt. I probably held it too tight. Oh well, I guessed it didn’t really matter much if my head had a few more cracks in it. I sat up, a bit drowsy. Sunlight was streaming through the closed curtain. It was either morning or noon, but guessing on how tired I felt, it was probably morning.

 

I checked the clock on the wall. Nope, it was noon.

 

“Dammit.” I muttered. I looked around the small room I was in. It was a very nice room, except it was dusty in places. There was a light in the ceiling, and I bet that if I stayed in this house long enough, I would eventually screw up and smack my head into it. There was a small dresser in the corner, and a small mirror on top. I couldn’t see my reflection from my place on the bed.

 

I slid onto the floor from the covers. My legs were stiff and my back was sore, but that was probably more from the way I had slept, rather than any lingering pain from the day before.

 

I made my way over to the dresser on my knees, since the bedroom ceilings were so low. I picked up the little hand mirror that was propped up.

 

I had known I was a die. I remembered that much at least, but I still found myself baffled by my reflection. I don’t know what I expected.

 

I was a die, white and lilac, with messily done bandages on my head. My eyes were pale green, but I could only see that if I stared. I had a mustache-my hands went up immediately to straighten it out-and high arching eyebrows.

 

I cocked an eyebrow at myself, and my reflection did the same. I looked tired.

 

I didn’t want to go back to sleep however, so I looked around for my clothes. I found my jacket where I had put it last night, neatly folded next to my bed, but the rest were nowhere to be seen. What I did find however, was a basket in front of the door. Sliding over to it, I found a very large quilt (one that would cover me), some towels, and a note.

 

“ _Dear Mr. Dice,_

 

_We found some stuff in our closet that you might want! We thought you might get cold while sleeping, so we gave you our old tent-fort-cover that we used to play with. Sorry we didn’t think of this last night,_

 

_-Cuphead and Mugman_ ”

  


I snorted. Something about the mixed handwriting and my own tiredness made me find the note oddly adorable. They were… sweet kids. I’d known them for less than a day, and they were already the most familiar faces I could think of.

 

Actually, it had probably been a bit more than a day already.

 

I set the basket aside, and using the quilt as a makeshift robe, opened the door. I was immediately bombarded with the scent of food. With a new goal besides ‘find my clothes’, I followed my nose down to the kitchen. While being careful to not punch a hole into the ceiling of course.

 

I poked my head into the doorway. I saw a calm little scene, Elder Kettle was at the stove, frying pan in hand, with Mugman next to him adding spices to whatever he was making. Cuphead was at the table, reading a sports car magazine. He had scissors in hand and seemed to be cutting out the cars and collecting them.

 

I had meant to be quiet and watch them for minute, but Cuphead had seen me a second too late and instantly said;

 

“Hey look! Dice’s awake!”

 

Elder Kettle and Mugman turned around, and both smiled. It was kinda like they had been waiting for me.

 

“We’ve been waiting for you!” Mugman said, setting the spices down.

 

Oh, well… uhhh… I guess they were waiting for me.

 

“How come?” I ask, yawning a bit.

 

“To see if you weren’t in a coma.” He replied, like it was obvious. He walked over to the table and sat down next to Cuphead. He patted the table twice, a signal for me to go sit as well. I obliged, but sat on the floor so I wouldn’t break a chair.

 

“After lunch, we should go have a tour of the house!” Cuphead said.

 

“Yea, our house is awesome! We can even show you Elder Kettle’s inkwell!” Mugman added.

 

“Ooh, we could show him my car collection, too!” Cuphead said. Mugman blew a raspberry.

 

“Your car collection is boring though. Let’s show him my gem collection!” Mugman suggested.

 

“Like a bunch of shiny rocks are cooler than my cars.” Cuphead replied, holding up one of the car cutouts.

 

“They’re just paper though!”

 

“Well, paper beats rock, so ha!”

 

The boys continued to bicker like that, practically zoning the rest of the world out. I tilted my head a bit, and Kettle let out a breathy laugh.

 

“You’ll have to forgive them, we’re not used to having guests.” Kettle said, flipping the food in the pan. I closed my eyes for a second, and let myself relax. It smelled nice in the kitchen, like spices and… some other homey smell. I couldn’t place what the smell was exactly. It was good though, so I didn’t care.

 

“What are you making?” I asked.

 

“Omelettes. We’re having breakfast for lunch since you slept through the morning.” Kettle chuckled. “I was wondering if I was going to have to make breakfast for dinner as well.”  

 

“Why would you go through all that trouble just to make breakfast for me?”

 

“Because,” Cuphead said suddenly, “Elder Kettle’s omelettes are the best.” Mugman nodded knowingly.

 

“So are his pancakes, but we ate those.”

 

“Huh.” I said.

 

“So, after you eat, I’ll go out to town and get some spare clothes, and then we can see about your old ones. I don’t think your jacket is too bad off, but we might have scrap ‘em.” Kettle said, walking over. The pan was still sizzling slightly as he dumped it’s contents onto the plate.

 

I looked down at the omelette on the plate, then grabbed my fork and took a bite. I sighed. It was delicious.

 

It seemed like my best course of action would to be to stay for a while, at least until I could get my mind back. And maybe because the the food was great.

 

* * *

  


My casino was failing. There was no one left on the isles willing to risk selling their souls. It was almost hilarious, almost so funny that I could cry. Almost. It was _almost_ because it was happening to me, and therefore was terrible.

 

It was past noon, and the casino was empty. That, on any other day, would be an impossibility. The place was usually so filled and packed that the staff had to work constantly, no breaks, no vacations, and only six hours to crawl in a hole and sleep. I had only agreed to the last term because King Dice had been hounding me that the maintenance kept passing out.  

 

I didn’t really get King, he was an odd ball even among sleazebags. While most sinners lied and cheated and hurt others for their own gain, and he did all of those things, he was something else too. I could never place a finger on it, but it never bothered his work progress so it didn’t matter.

 

“Hey! What are you doing outside your post?!” I shouted, shaking the walls. The demon that had been trying to leave the bar he was behind immediately recoiled. He clambered backwards and shrunk underneath a stool.

 

All of the staff had been trying to escape since King left. One way or another, they wanted out. Which of course, since I kicked that sorry-sleaze-ball’s be-hind out, left it up to me to reel them back in. They still had an eternity to serve me, they couldn’t just leave!

 

There was a poker chip trying to roll away behind me. It probably thought that it could escape if it wasn’t seen, when I wasn’t facing it. It was wrong. I swung on my heal, and with a mighty crack-

 

I jabbed my thumb down on the chip and through the floor. It was powder underneath my finger, I casually dusted it off. I turned back to the bar to find the demon was now watching me. I raised my fist and cracked my knuckles, a threat to him if he ever thinks about leaving again. He shrunk back into the shadows, a shivering coward.

 

I knew I could keep the staff here indefinitely if I so wished, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to make them work as efficient as before. I wasn’t a manager. I didn’t talk, or speak to people. I spoke at them, orders and rules and punishments. I wasn’t a people person, unlike King.

 

Since my manager was gone, my casino was losing profits. I either had to get fresh meat to serve under me, or I had to get King back.

 

The decision was easy.

 

A mild concern crossed my mind when I thought about how beat up he was.

 

I was certain he wasn’t dead. I would have collected his damned soul already if that was the case. But his injuries would have to be healed, especially after how hard I threw him. A weak servant was a useless one.  

 

But no matter what, he was coming back. He was coming back one way or another.

 

_He didn’t have a choice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No unused dialogue this time, sorry! :(


	4. How Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what to name any of these chapters.   
> Sorry for the break folks, I was having a block. I'm glad to say that my block is mostly gone though!   
> I wasn't very happy with chapter three, but this is better I think.

Digging through the pockets of my tattered purple coat was less exciting than I anticipated. 

 

The brothers had attempted to drag me through the house on a tour like they had suggested. I immediately turned them down. When they asked why, I told them I could figure out where things were myself and didn’t need their help. They looked a little dejected when I said that, but I paid it no mind. 

 

I walked up to my room instead. 

 

I had planned on going back to sleep as soon as I got there, but remembered the strange card that was in my jacket. Plans of sleeping thrown aside, I needed answers. So far, that jacket was the closest thing to a clue I was going to get. 

 

Strangely though, there wasn’t much to be found. I snaked my hand through the sleeve and found nothing. I even tried pulling the fabric apart to see if there were any hidden compartments. Not a single thing. I tried turning it inside out, but stopped when I heard something rip. Not going to tear up my only possession, thank you very much. 

 

The pockets yielded different results. One pocket was empty, but the other had a card and a  wooden box in it. The card wasn’t like the game card from before, but was more of an ID. That was the most useful thing I had found thus far, and mentally scolded myself for not checking it sooner. 

 

Except the card was half melted, leaving a disappointing hole in my chest. All the important bits were smeared away, but my picture and part of my name were still intact. I almost didn’t recognize myself. It was the same guy I had seen in the mirror before, except a thousand times more smug. 

 

I also didn’t have nearly as many bandages, but that was to be expected. 

 

My full name was _ ‘K--- -ice’ _ , written in loopy gold letters above my picture. Of course that wasn’t my full name, it was a bit too melted to read it properly. I assumed that  _ -ice  _ was Dice, but I couldn’t make out what the _K_ part of my name was. 

 

The box was a pack of cigarettes. Not cheap cigarettes, though. These were full blown cigars, thick and wrapped neatly in rows. The box wasn’t even cardboard, but rather a dark wood that I couldn’t identify. It was charred, however. Not like someone had set the box on fire, but more like someone had been scraping their cigarette butt on the box for a  _ long _ time, wearing it down. 

 

I picked one out, and looked at the label. 

 

Oh wait, there was no label. Generic cigarettes it is, then. They seemed… strangely inviting, in some weird way.

 

Too bad my jacket pocket didn't have a lighter.

 

* * *

 

Cuphead slapped his hands on the table in the kitchen. Then, with an expression that would freeze a rock in its tracks, he said; 

 

“What’re we gonna do about the blockhead in our guest room!?” 

 

“Don’t call him a blockhead, it’s not nice!” Mugan said. “And we’ve got to be quiet, Dice is probably tryin’ to sleep.” 

 

“Fine, fine.”

 

“So, how long you think Elder Kettle’s gonna be out?” Mugman asked.

 

“If he takes his time, like, an hour.” 

 

“Then we've got an hour to work out a plan.” 

 

“Operation: Reform-The-Guy-Who-Tried-To-Kill-Us.” Cuphead cheered quietly. Mugman snorted. 

 

“Seriously though, what should we do? I mean, Kettle said that amnesia -we should probably look that word up- doesn't last forever. So we've got to tell him the truth before that happens.” Mugman said.

 

“Not to mention making sure he doesn't turn into a bad guy again.” Cuphead added. 

 

“How do you even turn someone good?” 

 

“How do you turn someone bad?” 

 

They both paused. Turning someone bad seemed easier than turning them good.

 

“Well, in movies, they're always being tempted by money and power and ladies.” Cuphead pointed out. “And they don't care for their families and stuff.”

 

“Then would turning someone good just be doing the opposite of those things?” Mugman asked. “What's the opposite of money and power? … What's the opposite of ladies?? Men? Cuphead, do you think Dice is gay?”

 

“How should I know?”

 

“I don't know! This is harder than I thought. Isn't it supposed to be easy to be good?” Mugman whined. “Why is this so difficult…” Mugman face planted onto the table, spilling liquid everywhere. 

 

“Ack! Mugman! Now we've got to clean this up!” Cuphead complained. 

 

“It's just water, it'll dry before Elder Kettle gets back.”

 

“Really? Just water today? I have apple juice.”

 

There was an odd pause, where neither brother spoke. It was like they had both ran out of words to say. Until Mugman sat up with such swiftness that Cuphead fell off his seat. 

 

“Cuphead, that’s it!” 

 

“What’s it?” 

 

“Cuphead, you’re a genius!” 

 

“What did I do? What's this have to do with apple juice!?” 

 

“Okay! So here’s what I’ve come up with.” Mugman yanked Cuphead’s handle and hovered over the table and whispered. 

 

Then Mugman slipped on the table because it was still wet.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a beautiful day, or a least Elder Kettle thought so. The ground was still soggy here and there from the last days rainfall, but that didn’t bother him at all. 

 

What did lower his mood however, was the fact that PorkRind’s Emporium was closed for the day. The sign read that the shopkeeper was out on a fishing trip, but Kettle knew the pig usually visited family around this time of year. 

 

Unfortunate, considering the shopkeeper usually sold everything in that little store. Now he had to go to the city and buy clothes. He wondered if Pork even sold clothes. Probably, but he would bet that they were all enchanted in some way. 

 

Sighing softly, and regretting not taking one of the boys with him, he set off on the trail towards Isle Three. It was still a lovely day, and he wasn’t about to let a little hike dampen his mood. 

 

Now, Elder Kettle isn’t the type of pot to just walk by and not notice people whispering. He was the type of pot who turned, not to eavesdrop on the conversation, but to join it. That was the source of a lot of trouble when he was younger. Old habits die hard, he supposed. 

 

There  were a group of bees huddled together on Isle Two, whispering. He normally wouldn’t have paid it any mind if it weren’t for the worried faces the bees wore. And the fact that he could’ve sworn he heard a familiar name. 

 

He walked towards the bees, then tapped one of them on the shoulder to get their attention. The Drone flinched, not expecting someone to just pop up behind him. 

 

“Sorry if I’m interrupting anything boys, but I heard you say something about King Dice?” Kettle asked. The bees nodded nervously.

 

“Yes sir. There are rumors that King Dice has disappeared, but no one knows if it’s true.” One of them said, buzzing slightly. 

 

“Disappeared?” 

 

“Oh yes. Someone said that they always spotted Dice on the shore during his break, and that he usually came there every other day, but he hasn’t shown since the incident.” The bee explained. 

 

“That’s not all! I heard that Dice hasn’t even been outside the casino at all! People are starting to think that the Devil killed him.” 

 

“Then there was that weird explosion yesterday…” 

 

Kettle paused, choosing his words carefully. 

 

“Where’d you hear all this?” He asked slowly. 

 

“Miss Honeybottoms has connections all over. She gets info like this all the time, we just overhear it during work.” The bee said, checking his watch. Then he began to panic. “Our break is over! Nice talkin’ to ya mister, but the queen will have our heads if we don’t show!” 

 

They zoomed off towards Isle Three, leaving behind previously unseen lunches. They were soggy, presumably with honey. Kettle had the sneaking suspicion that they were just paper bags filled with nothing but honey. 

 

But what caught his eye was the wallet stuck underneath one of the bags. One of the bees forgot it in their rush. Kettle reached down and pulled it out from the soggy bag, scraping off some of the goo with his fingers. 

 

He was almost grateful now that Porkrind’s shop was closed, seeing how if it was open he wouldn’t be able to return this bee’s wallet. Maybe now he could go give a certain queen a visit.

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

I woke up with a start, sweating. I was confused at first, but then realized I had passed out on the floor. Like a genius. 

 

I grumbled and swore a bit, then looked at the clock on the wall. It had been an hour. I didn’t know what woke me up, but I guessed it was a dream. I couldn’t remember. Just another thing I just had to forget. 

 

I leaned back on my knees, popping my spine a bit. I wanted to swear when something twisted uncomfortably. I held my tongue though, in case those kids were nearby.

 

Oh. Yea, those kids. I was probably supposed to watch over them? I remembered vaguely the Kettle saying he was going to the store, and he’d be back before dinner. I checked the clock again. Still a few hours before that. He might’ve come back already though. Only one way to find out. 

 

Putting on my makeshift robe, I slid myself over to the door and stood in the hallway. My nose was assaulted with the smell of chocolate. Curiosity blooming, I walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. 

 

The kitchen was a mess. I saw both Cuphead and Mugman sitting at the table, sipping what presumably was hot chocolate. Their shirts were covered in cocoa powder. They didn’t seem the least bit remorseful about this fact however, and I could have sworn that Cuhead was giving his brother smug look, but he stopped when I stepped into the room. 

 

“Hiya, Dice!” Mugman greeted. 

 

“Hello…” 

 

“Want some hot chocolate?” Cuphead asked, offering his straw. I paused, shook my head slowly, then sat down. Cuphead snickered. His brother elbowed him. 

 

“Don’t be weird, Cuphead!” Mugman scolded. 

 

“It’s not weird! It’s just a straw.” Cuphead said. Was it just a straw? I had somehow got the impression that the straws were apart of their heads. But then again they drank whatever they had in their heads, their drinks weren’t apart of them. Maybe the straws were like hats? I guess it didn’t really matter. 

 

“Do you have any coffee?” I asked, thinking I could wake myself up some more. 

 

“Uhh… I don’t think so. Elder Kettle doesn’t like coffee.” Cuphead said, then added “Sorry.” 

 

I sighed through my teeth. It was going to be a long day. 

 

“I found an ID.” I said suddenly.

 

“What?” 

 

“And a box of cigars, but I figure the ID is a tad more important.” 

 

“Cigars- wait, what kind of ID? Like a name tag?” Cuphead asked.  

 

“Yea, that’s exactly what it seems. You boys know anything?” I asked. I considered going back upstairs and showing them them it, but refrained. No use going back up there when I just came down.  

 

“No.” Mugman said. “Sorry.” 

 

I felt that little itch in the back of my throat again. I scratched my mouth idly, hoping to relieve the itch. I raised an eyebrow at them.

 

“You said we’ve met before, though, right?” The brothers nodded slowly. “Where? I’d like-” 

 

The door opened, much to my dismay. Elder Kettle casually walked into the kitchen holding a paper bag. The boys jumped up and Kettle hugged them, which made Cuphead proclaim;

 

“Wow! You smell like honey today!” Which made me cock an eyebrow. Why did he smell like  honey?   

 

“I brought back clothes and some groceries for dinner.” He said in return, holding up the bag. As grateful as I was for having proper clothes on me instead of a quilt, I was fairly annoyed that my train of thought had been derailed. It felt like my mind had been seconds away from making a breakthrough. 

 

I sighed quietly. 

 

“I don’t think we should have clothes for dinner.” Mugman said. Kettle laughed while Cuphead rolled his eyes. Kettle dug his hand into the bag and pulled out a wad of folded clothes, and then set them on the table in front of me. 

 

“I got a lot of the same thing, so your gonna be wearing the same outfit for awhile.”  He said. I looked down at the clothes. Lots of neat dress shirts and black pants. Huh. 

 

Scooping up the clothes, I again walked to my room to change, leaving behind the chatting kids. I got there and looked down at my jacket once more, and remembered that I should probably ask Kettle to return the rest of my clothes as well. Later though. 

 

The clothes were all in slightly different sizes, so I spent several minutes trying on different shirts. I found this to be extremely irritating. Why couldn’t they just have been tailored to my size? Oh, that’s right, I didn’t have a tailor. Or maybe I did and I just couldn’t remember it. 

 

I shook away the headache that was returning. Seemed it was better not to think about the past. For now, at least. I was going to get answers. Maybe not today, and certainly not here, but soon enough. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. 

 

I groaned and sank my face into the thin mattress. 

 

Then I looked at the window. I could’ve sworn I had heard a light tap on the glass- but there was nothing there. Not to mention I was starting to get the feeling of being watched. I went to shut the curtain and in the reflection of the glass, for a split second, I thought I saw yellow eyes. I hastily closed the curtains and went out the door. 

 

“ _ Nope. _ Nope. Not today.” I said and walked back into the waiting kitchen. 

 

“Aint going to fuck with that today.” 

  
  



	5. Because I Can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this still count as being posted in 2017? I'm counting it. It counts.   
> I got one more chapter up before the new year, huzzah!

“ _ Ow,  _ fuckin’ shit-!”

 

I swore under my breath. It was too early to be stubbing my toe on, what? A watering can? Oh yea, didn't Kettle say he had to return this to a friend? Whatever.

 

I picked up the can and set it aside. I leaned against the wall and slid down until I was sitting. It was too early. It was simply too early for any being to be awake. It was madness. It was cold. Why was I awake?

 

“ _ Ugh.”  _ I said. At least the air was fresh. It actually burned my nose a bit, but that was fine. I closed my eyes and just listened to the crashing waves. It was funny, I could have sworn that their house was in a forest. But no, it was on an island. I must have been really out of it not to notice the bridge I crossed. Or the boat. Seriously, how could I have missed that?

 

I sighed and just sat there. I figured since I couldn't go back to sleep for whatever reason, I would get some fresh air.  _ What a brilliant plan.  _

 

It had been a rather uneventful yet headache inducing two days. 

 

Cuphead and Mugman both wanted to talk to me constantly, which became annoying after ten seconds. Despite their constant need for vocal abuse on my ears, they became skittish when I brought up the past. Specifically mine. I managed to squeeze one bit of information out of them though.

 

I wasn't the best of men in the past. 

 

That made sense. Made sense why they were so avoidant of the topic. Made sense why they kept insisting that I was their friend  _ now,  _ like I wasn't before. What didn't make sense about that is why they were helping me. If I had been… less than admirable in their eyes beforehand, why go out of their way to help, much less  _ save,  _ me? 

 

It kinda baffled me.

 

It also didn't help that they were so energetic. I was constantly tired, and always on the verge of a headache. I even was bedridden day before because a certain cup had decided that it was a good idea to play ball,  _ with my head.  _ I wasn't knocked out, but the baseball that flew through the window and into my face broke off a sizable piece of porcelain. 

 

I was gifted many apologies, and the anguished cries of Mugman, who told his brother not to give me amnesia  _ again.  _

 

“ _ Ughhh.”  _

 

We were able to wrap the piece back on, so there was no real harm done. I was still mad about it though. I touched the wrappings idly, noticing the very sharp sting. I decided not to push my wounds like a joybuzzer and just appreciate the silence while it lasted.

 

It didn't last long, but I wasn't paying attention to the time. I felt a nudge on my shoulder and I inwardly cursed. Peace and quiet was all a lie.

 

“What are you doing out here, Dice? I find that sleeping in a bed is a  _ tad  _ better than in the mud.” a kindly voice said. It was only Kettle, meaning my headaches would wait until the brothers woke.

 

“S'not my fault your beds are small.” I said, starting to stand. The sun was rising now, and I questioned if I had actually passed out.

 

Elder Kettle chuckled. “Sorry friend, but there's nothing I can do about that at the moment.” I smiled despite myself. The old kettle was growing on me. 

 

“So what made you think the flower bed was a better place to snooze?” He asked.

 

“I wasn't sleeping.” I said, probably lying. “I was getting some fresh air. It gets hot in the room.”

 

“Why not open the window?” He asked. 

 

“I’m not touching that window.” 

 

“Alright then… why don't you come back in and I’ll make you some tea?” He offered. I considered it, then begrudgingly nodded. I stood to go into the house, except I stubbed my bare foot on the watering can. Again.

 

“He-e-ck-!” I barely restrained myself from swearing in front of Kettle.

 

“Oh! I completely forgot about that. I should go and return that later today.” Kettle said, scratching his face. “Say, maybe you would like to come with me? I know you're getting cooped up in this house.” 

 

“Hhmm? Oh, yea, sure.” I said. “Sounds good actually, when do we leave?”

 

“When it’s not four in the morning. Come on back inside, we only have so much time before the boys wake up.” Kettle said. I nodded and followed him in. 

 

* * *

 

 

_ That clever bastard. _

 

 

That no-good, evil, clever  _ bastard! _

 

 

The Devil let out a hearty chuckle that sounded more like sandpaper on glass than a laugh. Smaller demons cowered in corners as their lord, who was still bruised and beaten, stand up from his throne. He picked up his trident and stormed out of the throne room. 

 

And like all evil beings who devise evil plans, the Devil began talking to himself. 

 

“That cocky little- Just wait. Just  _ wait  _ till he sees what I have in store for him! Cowardly piece if crap. Can hide all he wants, he still can’t run. He can’t go anywhere. Not  _ one damn place!”  _ The Devil slammed his knuckles into a wall, and the pure white structure cracked and crumbled. Little imps were already rushing underfoot repairing the damage. 

 

The keeper of Hell watched the little creatures move. Scurrying around like their lives depended on it. Because they did. They all knew their place, and that was at the beck and call of those who were stronger than them. He reached down and picked one up by the tail. It dropped what it was holding, but was quickly swept up by the other imps. 

 

He dangled the purple demon in front of his eyes, watching it shake violently. 

 

_ It was scared of him.  _

 

He tapped his foot on the ground twice, and all the imps looked at him. The did their best to hide it, but they were shaking too. They didn’t want to die. 

 

Calmly, very calmly, like he was demonstrating how to do the simplest of tasks to a child, he ate the demon he was holding. 

 

The rest of the imps got the message and worked faster than before. They chirped and hissed in worry and fear not wanting to end up like their fallen friend. 

 

The Devil took that as his cue to leave, now stalking down the hall with new found vigor. He didn’t eat that imp because it was doing anything wrong. Not because it was disobeying him, or was talking back. He did it because he  _ could.  _

 

Because he wanted to. Because he was  _ better than them _ and wanted to show them that. It wasn’t about obedience. It wasn’t about loyalty. 

 

It was about proving a point. 

 

He was on top of everything he owned. 

 

He wasn’t going to retrieve Dice because his casino was failing. He was bringing him back because Dice was  _ his.  _ Not because it mattered, not because Dice did anything wrong, but because he could. 

 

Because that damn cowardly cube belonged to him, whether he liked or not. 

 

Just because the Devil kicked him out doesn’t mean that Dice shouldn’t have come crawling back begging for mercy. 

 

And now  _ everyone was going to pay.  _

 

“Do you hear that, Dicey? You can’t hide behind a couple of kids forever. I’ll be back soon enough.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make it longer, but (INSERT EXCUSE) .   
> I'm sorry.   
> Good news is that there will be another chapter in the next week!


	6. Oh No, a Flower!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey  
> I'm not dead
> 
>  
> 
> sorry for the wait guys

I didn't recognize _anything._

 

I examined my surroundings. There were tall trees as far as the eye could see, and the smell of dew filled the morning air. The rising sun painted the land in soft yellows and pinks, pushing away the leftover darkness from the night before.

 

Kettle stood beside me, breathing it all in.

 

“Lovely day, don't you think?” Kettle asked.

 

“It's beautiful.” I said. I felt foolish. I had probably seen this sunrise dozens of time before. I had probably grown used and then numb to it. Or did I appreciate the simple things like this before?

 

When I saw a sunrise like this before, did it ever feel this _new?_

 

“Come on, then. It's just a short walk.” Kettle said, walking forward. I followed.

 

I wanted to look around, to see my environment like I had seen them before, like I was getting strange feelings of Deja-vu, but I couldn’t. It was all still too new.

 

We wandered down the path for a few silent minutes. It was leisurely and calm, like Kettle had no worries in the world. Which I guess in a way he didn’t, besides being a single father of two. He had the watering can in hand and a box of cookies in the other,

 

“It’s just an apology present for bringing it back so late.” He had said. The cookies were some of the batch he had made the day I came over, after I told him that he really shouldn’t make an entire new dozen cookies at five in the morning.

 

Our walking came to a stop when we finally arrived at Mr. Cagney’s home. Garden. Flower patch? Section of forest? I didn’t know.

 

Well, _my_  walking stopped when I saw a fucking ten foot _flower_ that was giving me such a look that I was honestly a bit scared that it was going to eat me.

 

And of course Kettle just walked right up to it.

 

I watched frozen in place how the flower lowered it’s gaze down to the old man, and completely change demeanor. The cold gaze it was boring into me before melted away and turned into a small smile, and the flower greeted Kettle like an old friend. Well, they probably were old friends.

 

“Oh, hello there! Didn’t recognize you from so far! Sorry Kettle.” The flower said cheerily, his voice just a little too high pitched to be comfortable on the ears.

 

“Think nothing of it, Cagney. We were just returning this watering can you gave me a while back.”

 

“Oh my, I think I forgot all about that. Thank you for returning it, but I think you should keep it, I already have my fair share of gardening supplies.”  

 

“Oh no! I couldn’t do that.”

 

“Please, I insist.”

 

"But I even brought homemade cookies as an apology."

 

"Really? Oh, you shouldn't have!" 

 

I just stared at them. It was almost sickly sweet how they were interacting. They were way too neighborly. I was mildly concerned. Lost in my thoughts, I almost missed when the flower -Cagney- addressed me.

 

“Sorry if I gave you a scare back there. I think I might have overreacted to your… companion.” Cagney said, glancing over at me and then back at Kettle. He swapped gazes like that few times in an awkward silence of sorts. The flower nudged his head towards me a few times.

 

“Ah, yes. Cagney, you’ve met mr. Dice, right?” Kettle said, getting the message. “Or have at least been acquainted?”

 

My interest was peaked.

 

“Yes, I know him quite well…” Cagney said. He turned and addressed me. “But would it be safe to assume that he doesn’t seem much like himself?”

 

“You… could say that. I suppose.” I replied. “Where did we meet?”

 

The flower’s eyes lit up. Cagny now seemed far too pleased with me being there, which was a red flag. He definitely knew something.I stole a glance over at Kettle, who wasn’t necessarily concerned, but he wasn’t as relaxed as he was before.

 

“ _Mr._ Dice! Have you _forgotten_ already? It was only a month or so ago.” The flower asked.

 

“Yes, I believe I have. Remind me.”

 

“Kettle, dear,” Cagney turned to to face him. “Would you mind giving me a moment to talk with your new friend, alone?”

 

Kettle looked at me, eyebrows raised. I nodded quickly. Whatever the flower had to say I wanted to hear it.

 

“Alright Cagney. Don’t take too long, Mugman will be disappointed if Dice isn’t back soon.” Kettle said, letting a smile grace his face. The kettle left, and Cagney watched him go. When he was out of sight, and probably earshot, the flower turned back to me.

 

He just stared.

 

For a few awkward moments I was left under his eyes, which were just… searching for something. Anything.

 

All I did was look back, wondering what the Hell was going on.

 

“I don’t think you’re faking it.” He said suddenly.

 

“Faking what- losing memories?” I asked.

 

“Yes. I don’t think you’re faking this. You’re too… raw. I guess that’s the right term.”

 

“Explain.”

 

“You’re not the same. You don’t look the same, and you didn’t...  _react_ the same as you would have before. I know looks are cheap, but you were a very cheap man and I doubt you would like to be seen out of that high-class suit you liked to wear.” He said, lowering himself to get a better look at my face.

 

My mind flicked back to the ruined purple suit I woke up in.

 

I must have worn it often.

 

He was closer now.

 

“And I doubt you would have tolerated going outside when you look like you got run over by a train.”

 

“Didn’t you just say looks were cheap-” I tried, a bit insulted with that comment about my appearance, but he kept going.

 

“And I doubt you would just stand there like that- why, you were somehow always the center of attention when you came into a place. And you just stood there quietly. I don’t think you could have resisted the temptation before, you never did, and yet…”

 

We were nose to nose now.

 

“I don’t think you’re quite right in the head, mr. Dice. At least not like you were before.”

 

“...What was I like before?”

 

He was pressing his forehead against mine for a moment before he pulled back suddenly.

 

“You weren’t a good man.” He said simply. “You tricked me, stole from me, _endangered my children_ and more. You’ve done worse to others.”

 

My eyes widened.

 

“I don’t feel the same way anymore, I’ve never been one to hold onto grudges. That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, _but…_ ”

 

He looked down at me, his glare hard. I stood my ground.

 

“I used to hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of putting art into this fic, which is interesting. I'm still wondering what platform I should use to post it on, but that's cool. 
> 
> and hey don't worry I'm a decent artist it'll be cool.


	7. Money in Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy guys
> 
> so lots of backstory this chap  
> hope you like it  
> not so much comedy but that's probably fine
> 
>  
> 
> I have no idea what to name any of these chapters omg

After Cagney had stopped glaring me down, he was actually very friendly. He pulled a rock over and offered it to me as a seat, which I took. He had this small, shit eating smile that could make metal melt.

 

“So. You... have kids?” I asked conversationally. The flower extended a vine over to me and handed me a teacup, which was just filled with water. A bizarre part of my mind wanted to laugh at how much it looked like the cup brother’s heads.

 

“Yes, they’re my little babies! Sweet little angels they are _._ Too bad they don’t like you to much.” He said, shaking his head.

 

I frowned, taking a sip from the cup. I immediately choked, noting that this was definitely not water.

 

“Is this… _sap_?”

 

“Yes. It’s very nutritious.” He said, smiling. He wasn’t glaring at me like before, but his eyes watched me intently. The sap water was sickly sweet and unreasonably thick, but I took another gulp anyway. It was like drinking glue, but it Cagney seemed to appreciate it.

 

We sat in an uncomfortable silence, but the flower didn’t seem to notice.

 

“Can you tell me more about myself…?” I asked conversationally. He seemed to ponder it for a moment, like he was chewing his words.

 

“...Sure.” He said. He pulled at his petals for a moment in thought. He turned behind, reaching out to something. He pulled out a _book_ of all things, opened it up and removed a lose picture. He handed it to me.

 

“What is this?” I asked. It was building, obviously, but it was under construction. It was being built inside what seemed to be a huge cave. A single person stuck out from the rest of the workers. Their face was obscured by the poor quality of the photo, but their hands seemed to be guiding the workers along.  

 

The gloves had two, shiny black buttons stitched into the white fabric.

 

“That man is you.” Cagney said, “This is the beginning of this isle’s greatest attraction, the Devil’s Casino.”

 

“ _Devil’s_ Casino?” I asked, perplexed. “What, does Satan work there or something?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I cocked an eyebrow at him. After he showed no sign of this being a joke, I began to get worried.

 

“Wait, really?” I asked, a bit confused. Cagney began to laugh.

 

“Yes! Lucifer himself resides in our very backyard.”

 

I was mildly concerned. I turned around to eye the flower patch behind us, which is what would qualify as a backyard to Cagney.

 

“That wasn’t literal.” He used a vine to sit me back straight.

 

“So what you’re saying is that I built that Casino? For the Devil? Why?”

 

“I don’t know _why_ , but I know you did. And you didn’t just build it, you helped _run it_.” He said, taking the now empty teacup away from me.

 

“I owned-”

 

“You were the manager. You didn’t _own_ anything, you worked for the damn Devil. He owned everything, _including_ you.”

 

“How-?” I was baffled. There’s nothing better than finding out you have otherworldly connections three days after you start existing.

 

“I don’t know _how_ , either. All I know is that a few decades ago, you and that horned monkey came in and wrecked the place. Those poor mountain caves, had all that lovely moss that you just _burned_.” He said that with more than a hint of malice.

 

“Oh.” Was all I could say. “Well what- decades? How long have I been here? Do you know what I did?”   


“Yes, decades. You’ve been on these isles for ages, Dice. And no, I don’t know and frankly don’t _care_ what you did to get yourself in that mess.” He said, crossing his arms. I felt the conversation waning.

 

“You should be getting along now. Don’t leave that kind kettle waiting so long.”

No.

 

I couldn’t let this end here, not when answers were so close.

 

I needed to know.

 

“Can’t you tell me anything else?” I asked. My mind stuttered for speech as the flower seemed to dismiss me further.

 

_“Please?”_

 

Cagney sighed. He rubbed his temples with a leafy hand. He looked down at me.

 

“Look- I just don’t know. There’s a lot of things I’ve never bothered to learn about you, I’ve never thought you were worth the time. And the things I do know, the things that matter… well…” He said, an expression that resembled pity crossed his features.

 

“Well?”   


He looked at me. Calculatingly. Like he was scrutinizing me for every last scrap of detail.

 

“...Don’t really matter anymore.”

 

I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated.

  


* * *

 

 

“So how was your chat with Cagney, Dice?” Kettle asked conversationally. He was as cheery as ever, but there was something hesitant in his voice.

 

“It wasn’t too bad, all things considering.” I said, scratching idly at my bandages. “He was glaring me down, if you didn’t notice.”

 

“Oh I did, kinda why I didn’t want to leave you alone with him. But it turned out alright in the end, didn’t it?” The kettle smiled. I nodded slowly.

 

“Okay, that’s all fine and dandy, but…”

 

“But what?”

 

“He _knew_ me. He knew me! He knew more about myself than _I_ do at this point and he hates my guts.” I said. I tore through my pocket with a vengeance and fished out the picture. “Look at this. He had this, he knows more than he’s letting on and I know that for a fact because he told it to my face.”

 

Kettle took the picture from me and frowned at it. He flipped it upside-down and then gave it an even more discouraging look. His eyes then lit up with recognition.

 

“It’s you!” He said, stroking his mustache.

 

“It’s me building a damn- _darn_ casino apparently.” I said, I retrieved the picture and stuffed it back in my pocket. “He let me keep that for some reason, or at least he didn’t ask for it back.”

 

It’s mine now, flower man. Checkmate.

 

“You shouldn’t just take things without asking Dice.” Kettle said, trying to use his father voice. He failed.

 

“If I had asked he would have said no.” I replied.

 

“If you were Cuphead…” He said. I just rolled my eyes.

 

“Wait.”

 

“What is it Dice?” Kettle asked.

 

“You recognized me. From the picture, you knew it was me without me telling you. You knew. You know.” I said, realizing. “Have we met before this?”

 

“Dice.”

 

He was looking at me, a frown on his face. I got the impression that two conflicting emotions were battling in his mind. What those emotions were, I couldn’t know.

 

“Tonight. I’ll tell you tonight Dice. I have my reasons for making you wait, but please, just a few more hours.”

 

I nodded, ignoring the prickling feeling that crawled down my spine.

 

We arrived back at the house, and from that point on time seemed to crawl.

 

The day had just begun, after all.

 

* * *

 

“Dad?” A little voice called.

 

It was later in the evening, when all his flowers seemed to droop without the sun’s nourishing rays.

 

Cagney turned to face his small bud. It was one of his youngest, but he had grown fast just like all his kids.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Why don’t you like that guy? What did he do?” He asked innocently. Cagney frowned at his child, not sure he liked how well he was at eavesdropping.  

 

“You weren’t around back then, I doubt your siblings were old enough to remember.” Cagney said.

 

“Are you gonna tell me?” The bud pouted.

 

“Well…” He looked down at his son. “I suppose. It will be your bedtime story tonight. Run along now.”

 

The flower bud pouted.

 

* * *

 

_A very tall figure was said to be seen roaming around at night._

 

_It was merely a rumor, nothing factual or concrete, but it gave the residents of Inkwell Isle a feeling of foreboding. The islands were small, and the tightly knit community was always alerted to newcomers in their home. Everybody knew each other in some shape or form, and so the prospect of someone unknown brought along a spark of fear._

 

_The people who had spotted this figure never agreed to each other on what they looked like._

 

_“Dark, with tall horns that could impale someone.”_

 

_“A silhouette, too quick to be made clear.”_

 

_“Something akin to a monkey.”_

 

_“A man with a stiff back.”_

 

_“A monster with a shovel.”_

 

_“Some bizarre creature.”_

_“A hairy freak.”_

 

_“A demon.”_

 

_But one thing that they all agreed on was that it was real. While others didn’t agree, said that it was their minds playing tricks on them, the lucky few who had seen him knew better. They knew that no trick of the light could have brought such a weary feeling with it._

 

_And then the foreboding tension left._

 

_And what replaced it was just some man who wanted to start a business._

 

_A younger Kettle stood and watched the man talk to some people in suits outside a bar. He recognized the men is suits as real estate agents, the same kind people who had found a plot of land to build a house on. The agents laughed at some unheard joke, and they parted ways. The tall man who had been talking with them had a di as his head, and had a look like he was about to win the lottery._

 

_He checked a watch on his wrist, it glistened bright gold in the dim light, and left the street a moment later._

 

_Kettle didn’t think much about it._

 

_And later, when he learned that the man turned out to be building a casino in some of the old caves, he wasn’t at all surprised. He seemed like the kind of person to enjoy wealth after all. He didn’t understand why it was going to be in a cave._

 

_A younger Cagney didn’t understand either. He had been visiting the caves ever since he was little, and loved to watch the luminescent moss that grew on the cave walls. It glowed such pretty colors, and if on shone a light on it the moss would glitter. Lots of little bats would sleep in the moss, along with other small creatures, and he was so glad to know that there was an ecosystem all it’s own all the way in a deep cave._

 

_And then that man came and ruined everything. He walked into the cave one day, a day Cagney just so happened to be there, and slipped on some moss on the floor. He grunted, stood up, then brushed himself off. He glared at the smeared plant on the ground._

 

_He then proceeded to look around the place for ten minutes, and just when Cagney was tempted to reveal himself, the man pulled out… something. He didn’t know what it was, and could barely hear what he was mumbling to himself, but after a moment of looking at whatever it was, he left._

 

_The next week when Cagney went to go see the caves again, there was a sign that said that the caves were under construction. He ignored the sign and went in anyway._

 

_He left the caves in a coughing fit when he decided the smell of kerosene was too strong._

 

_He decided he would stop going to the caves. He really should have taken his own advice and never gone back._

 

_A year later the casino was near completion, the feeling of imminent doom returned in the form of dark figure standing next to the casino manager._

 

_Nobody thought much of it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know what the fanon backstory for my boy dice is, so I came up with one on my own. I figure that The flower man didn't like Dice from the start, and it was likely somebody else's fault that he sold his soul. I might elaborate more on that later, but don't count on it too much. Also I have noticed an abundant lack of females in my story thus far and wish to remedy that next chapter. 
> 
> this chap had more words than the last, and I want to keep that trend going.  
> so expect longer chapters maybe??
> 
> anywayyy I hope you like this, it was one of the more fun chapters to write


	8. Quit Asking Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my promise for females have been for naught

“Do you think he likes it here?”

 

“He’s been here, like, four days. I think he would have left if he didn’t like it here.” The cup said. 

 

Cuphead walked with his brother along the dirt road. He carried a long stick in is hand which he was using to poke things with. Mugman also had a stick, which he was currently snapping in half. Or trying to.

 

“But it’s like- do you ever get the feeling he might be tricking us? I’ve been thinking about that.” Mugman said. He put the branch underneath his foot and pulled up on both ends. It bent, but didn’t snap. 

 

“Well, maybe? He stills seems pretty roughed up though, and I think if he was faking it we would have noticed something? Wouldn’t he be trying to, uh, find out more about us?” Cuphead said, scratching his head. “I don’t know. You’re the one who usually thinks of this stuff.” 

 

“It’s just that he seems so...  _ confused _ . That’s not the right word. Like he doesn’t how to act around us?” Mugman threw the twisted stick across from him. Cuphead shot at it with his hand and it fizzled. 

 

“Yeah, that’s pretty weird. But he’s a pretty weird guy, isn’t he? Kinda mean too.”

 

“Mean? What did he do that was mean?” Mugman asked.

 

“Well, it’s more like he’s not being nice. That’s pretty mean of him.” Cuphead replied.

 

“I think he’s pretty nice for someone who tried to kill us.” 

 

“Key thing there is that he tried to kill us.”

 

“All our friends tried to kill us!” Mugman said. He walked over the smoking branch and snapped it with ease. A flurry of ash fell from the break, and Mugman dumped the two twigs onto the ground. 

 

An odd silence fell between the two. Mugman watched the two branches on the ground smolder for a second and then spontaneously burst into flame. Cuphead stared at the little fire on the ground. He shot at the branch again. This made the fire get bigger, much to his surprise. 

 

“Ack!” 

 

“What did you think was going to happen?!” 

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


We entered the tiny cottage. The kettle still had this calmness around him from our earlier conversation. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about still, but I knew I wouldn’t get an answer now. 

 

The two brothers were seated on the floor, a seemingly long list rested in front of them. They both looked up, got this shocked expression on their faces, and then scrambled to hide whatever it was they were working on.    
  


“Well, hello to you too!” Kettle said. He gave a pointed look at the paper that they had sprawled over. 

 

“Oh, hi Elder Kettle. We were just doing nothing in the middle of the floor. Nothing suspicious here.” Cuphead said. Mugman shushed him hurriedly. Kettle stifled a laugh.

 

“Uh huh.” I said, nodding slowly. Mugman smiled wearily. I raised an eyebrow at him.  

 

“So what are you two laying on?” Kettle asked. 

 

“Not a big piece of paper, that’s for sure.” Cuphead said. Mugman hissed at him to shush. 

 

“It’s- It’s a surprise! You can’t see it yet.” Mugman said. 

 

“I thought you said we weren’t going to show-” Cuphead was cut off as a hand smacked over his mouth.

 

“- _ Them yet _ . Of course we’re not going to show them yet, it’s not finished! It’ll be finished soon though, we better go get it done, _ let’s go Cups! _ ” Mugman said a bit too hastily. He crumpled the paper underneath him into a ball, and all but dragged his brother out of the room. 

 

“Uh, sorry about coming home late boys-!” Kettle called, but the two kids were already up the stairs. “Ah, dang it.” 

“They’re up to something.” I said, squinting accusingly at the stairs.

 

Kettle sighed, but not unlovingly. 

 

“Of course they are. Those two are always doing something.” He said. I patted his shoulder awkwardly. 

 

“I’m going to get some more sleep, if that’s okay with you.” I said. He chuckled.

 

“Ah of course. You’re still recovering. I’m going to get some food started- though it’s a bit too early for lunch… Ah, whatever. It’ll be fine. Go get some rest, I’ll call you up when it’s ready.” He said.

 

I nodded and walked off after the brothers. Instead of going back to way too small bed, I stopped by the brother’s room instead. I pressed the side of my head to their door and heard intelligible whispering. I knocked twice and they stopped. The door opened a second later and Mugman’s face poked through. 

 

“Oh, uh, hey there Dice. How’s it going?” He asked. 

 

“It’s going rather strangely I’ll admit. Is it alright if I ask you some questions?” I asked. 

 

“Um. Sure. That’s fine. Come on in?” There was panicked rustling behind the door for a second. 

 

The door was opened wider and I let myself in. Their room was a mess to say the least. Two beds were on either side of the walls, but one side was noticeably messier than the other. Little car cutouts were haphazardly glued to the bed paneling like stickers, and a pile of comic books were stacked against a bookshelf instead of in it. Cuphead was for some reason laying on top of a pile of papers like it was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe it was to him. 

 

I shut the door behind me. 

 

“Hey, Dice.” Cuphead greeted. “What’s up?”    
  


“Not much… what are you laying on?” I asked pointing to the papers. 

 

“Bedsheets. Duh.” He replied easily. Mugman face palmed. 

 

“So what did you want to ask?” Mugman said, bring the topic back around. I reached down into my pocket, where a put the ID card the day before. I pulled it out and set it in front of them. I pointed at it. 

 

“See how it says ‘K--- -ice’?” 

 

They nodded.

 

“Well, the last part is Dice, obviously, but I found out today that my first name, for whatever reason, is King.” I said. The two boys glanced at each other. I again got the feeling they were keeping things from me. Or was that just Cagney?

 

“Anyways, it turns out I also worked for the literal devil. In a big casino. Apparently I pissed- I  _ peeved  _ off a lot of people off when I was there. Is this ringing any bells?”

 

“Uhm.” They both said intelligently. Mugman looked worried and Cuphead had this dumbfounded expression on his face. Did they really not know? They shared a worried glance at one another. 

 

“Well?” I asked again. Mugman breathed in. 

 

“A bit, yeah.” He responded. I nodded. 

 

“Do you know anything else? I convinced Kettle to tell me some things after dinner, but I would like any information I can get.” I said. They both looked mildly uncomfortable, wearing the same expression Kettle wore when I asked him.

 

A silence fell between the three of us. Mugman squirmed in his seat on the floor, and Cuphead kept glancing at his brother for help. 

 

Minutes passed and neither of them seemed willing to speak. I sighed.

 

“Hey, Kettle wanted to apologize for being late.” I said, changing the subject. “We dropped by a friend of his, and ended up staying there longer than planned.” 

 

“Who’d you visit?” Mugman asked.

 

“The big flower guy, Cagney. He kept giving me the stink eye. He’s the one who told me.” 

 

“Oh.”

 

“He gave me this,” I pulled out the picture. “If you’d like to see.” 

 

Thy both leaned over eagerly and looked at the image. Mugman grabbed it easily, but Cuphead leaned too far off his bed and fell, making papers fly everywhere. 

 

“He gave you this?” Mugman asked.

 

“Yes, handed it right to me.” I said. This made Mugman nod somewhat approvingly. I left out the part where he probably wanted it back.

 

“That’s good.” Cuphead said, stuffing the fallen papers under his bed.

 

“And also there were few trees on fire? It was really weird, it wasn’t even that cold out. They were pretty far out too. Kettle insisted on going to see if everything was alright.” I explained, not noticing how Cuphead seemed to shrink down to the floor.

 

“Ah, well, I hope that went okay...” He said. 

 

They both paused again, like they were expecting me to keep talking. They still hadn’t answered my question. I sighed and put my head in my hands.

 

“You aren’t going to answer me, aren’t you?”    
  
Mugman looked like he wanted to evaporate.

 

“Fine. I’ll be asleep, come wake me up before Dinner.” I said, standing as much as I could. I turned back to the door, but I didn’t notice how his shoulders seemed to droop when I left. 

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


When Dice had left the room, the two boys had waited until they were sure he was out of earshot. Cuhead gasped like he had been drowning moment prior. 

 

“Oh my  _ God  _ Cups! He knows! He’s gonna figure it out and be evil again what do we do!?” Cuphead said hysterically. 

 

“Shush! You gotta be quiet, or someone’ll hear you!” Mugman said, sliding over to his brother. He was shaking just as much, and he was probably even more frazzled at what Dice had figured out in such a short amount of time. 

 

“But what about the plan?! Cagney knows he’s here now and I don’t think he’s gonna keep quiet about it-”

 

“I know! I know! Now shush!” Mugman insisted. Cuphead thankfully quieted down. “Just- Just let me think for a minute.” 

 

“I  _ knew  _ this plan was stupid. I just knew it. But I still listened to you, because you’re the smart one and when I didn't listen to you the last time I sold our souls by accident-” 

 

“I told you to shush!” Mugman hissed, even though Cuphead hadn’t been as loud as he had been before. 

 

“Look, the plan can still work, maybe, we just got to get Mr. Cagney on our side. He’s pretty nice, even though he tried to kill us-”

 

Cuphead groaned.

 

“- _ But that doesn’t mean _ he won’t help us now!” Mugman finished. “Why are you even freaking out so much? I thought you liked being the brave one!” 

 

“Well yeah, but not like…  _ this _ !” He explained. Or tried to. 

 

“What do you mean not like this!?” 

 

“Well, we had a plan his time, we didn’t just go in guns blazing like before, we can’t do that now- and I’m not good at remembering the steps to plans! Not to mention we- we- we uh.” He paused. “You know, we don’t have very much to lose on his one.” 

 

“What?” Mugman asked again.

 

“Well, before we had our souls to lose, right?”

 

Mugman nodded.

 

“We had our souls, probably our lives, and everybody else’s souls to lose too- but now we don’t. The only thing well lose is Dice, and if he becomes bad again everything will just go back to the way it was before.” 

 

“But we can’t lose Dice!” Mugman tried. 

 

“Why not?” His brother asked. Mugman paused.

 

“Because aren’t we supposed to be the good guys? Aren’t we supposed to help?” 

 

“Haven’t we helped enough though? Can’t we just tell him he tried to kill us and send him off? It’s not like he can’t defend himself. Wait, can he..?”

 

Mugman looked at the crumpled papers underneath Cuphead’s bed. They were lists of names, all the people they had fought and all they could remember from their contracts. There were little notes he had put next to the names of ways of how to fix whatever had been bargained for. 

 

His mind wandered off to what their guardian had told them before. 

 

“I’m going to try and get Cagney to help us tomorrow.” He said. 

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


A loud knock sounded at my door. A voice called after it. It was Cuphead.

 

“Hey, Dice? Lunch is ready!” He said. I mumbled, pulling the tiny blanket over my head. He knocked again.

 

“Dice?” 

 

I groaned. 

 

“Come back when it’s dinner.” I called back. I heard an affirmative ‘okay!’ from the other side of the door. 

 

I quickly fell back into sleep. But it didn’t feel like any time had passed at all, because the next thing I knew there was another Knock at more door. This time is was Mugman. And it was now Dinner. I groaned, then flopped out of bed. 

 

The room had grown irritatingly warm, so when I went down for food I left the door open. 

 

I seated myself at the table, and dinner seemed to pass in silence. The food was good, as I expected from Kettle now, except it was just a little too salty. Probably from one of the boys helping him. 

 

The two boys would chat with each other once in awhile, but it wasn’t their usual table banter. And Kettle just seemed tired. 

 

I guess we all were. 

 

I glanced behind me at the picture that hung on the wall. It was shiny and reflective, and of a sunny meadow. I could have sworn someone had been watching me from the spot in front of it. I know I saw an unnatural yellow flash in the surface of the painting. 

 

“Kettle?”

 

“Hmm? Yes friend?” 

 

“Your house is haunted.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lost track of my inspiration and now the scene where Kettle explains to Dice has been lost in the next chapter.
> 
> Hope a few of you liked this one though, things are gonna start picking up soon.


	9. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey  
> I made another chapter for you!  
> It's a very nice chapter, I like to think.  
> The pain starts in the next one :D

I sat on the floor, slightly dumbstruck. I didn’t exactly know what I had been expecting. But this… seemed close enough.

 

“So I tried to _kill_ them?” I asked, incredulous.

 

“Yes.” Kettle replied calmly.

 

“And then you invited me to stay in your house? Your home? With the very kids I tried to kill?!”

 

“Well… yes.”

 

I looked at him. I had previously thought he was the most sanest person in this house but I was seriously doubting that now. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. If what he said was true, which it probably was, then I had been a monster of a person. Did I view myself like that before? Did that smug bastard on my card realize he attacked children?

 

I lowered my head and placed two fingers on m head. I messaged the sore cracks that had yet to heal over. There were a lot of those.

 

“I don’t get it. I hurt them. I hurt everybody. Why. are. you. being. so. nice?” I asked, still looking down.

 

“Right thing to do.” He said simply. I spluttered.

 

“Is it?! Is it _really_?”  I asked him. “Can you really so easily forgive the man who did so much to wrong you?!”

 

Kettle remained silent. He looked tired. More tired than I had ever seen him during my stay at his house. He looked his age. He let out, a long, tired, grown-up sigh. The kind of sigh somebody should only have to make once in their life, if they were lucky.

 

“It’s important to forgive people. And even though… you’ve _yet_ to earn such forgiveness, it’s also important to be kind.”

 

“I tried to kill them.” I said.

 

“Did you? Dice, I’m not too sure about things like this, but are you really the same person you were before?” He asked. I paused. I didn’t know what I was like before. I knew I wasn’t like that now, but the past remained a mystery.

 

“You’re not yourself, Dice. That’s not the right phrase. You’re not… who you used to be. You’re kinder. You’re more patient. You thank people for things- Hell, if this is how you act with a blank slate, if this is who you really are, then can you call yourself the same man as before?”

 

I looked at him. I didn’t know the answer to that. Of course it was silly to talk of my past self as a different person, and it was near stupid to consider myself beyond the consequences of what I did before, but it piqued my interest. How much had a really changed? Had whatever knocked my memories out really have changed my personality so drastically? Or was this this so called kinder self of mine, an actual factor of my person? Could there be way to know for sure?

 

“Do you even know the answer to that yourself, Kettle?” I asked.

 

“No. I think… I think I don’t… I don’t have the expertise to judge a situation like this.”

 

A silence bloomed between us. Kettle broke eye contact with me first and looked at the couch he was sitting on.

 

“I don’t think I know, either.” I said.

 

* * *

 

The two boys held the equivalent of their ears to their bedroom door. They had just heard their guardian tell everything they had been avoiding to the man they were hiding it from. They didn’t know what to think.

 

Mugman slowly removed himself from the door and went to go sit in the middle of the room. Cuphead joined him.

 

“Think he’ll leave?” Mugman asked.

 

“Yeah. At some point.” His brother replied.

 

The cup nodded. After a short and uncomfortable moment where nothing happened, Cuphead brought his brother into a hug. Mugman hugged back.

 

“We still have time for the plan to work.” Cuphead said.

 

“Yeah, I know. We’ll just have to bring him along with us instead. I don’t think… I don’t think he appreciates having things being hidden from him.” Mugman replied, pulling away. He scrambled up onto his bed and threw the blankets over himself. “But right now, I just want to sleep.”

 

“Me too. G’night, Mugs.”

 

“Night Cup.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next week passed in a blur. The two brothers had both admitted hiding things from me, which I strangely wasn’t that bothered by. I did try and attack them after all, maybe it was guilt. Kettle had introduced me to a few more people formally on Isle One, and the boys had introduced me to everybody else. A few people sneered at me, but before I could respond to them, Cuphead would always glare at them back. Only then would they back off.

 

Both of the brothers had, for some reason, pointed their fingers at a group of rowdy vegetables, which had somehow procured the effect of fear. I was very confused, but then again, I had attacked the boys  _and lost_. That mere fact had bruised my pride more than I’d like to admit.

 

Apparently news traveled fast on the Isles, because a few people from the other Islands came to pay me a visit. They had received the same treatment from the cup brothers, and one of the visitors cried. Which made me keel over laughing, of course.

 

Most of the people from the other isles had been looking for revenge, reasonably. Most of them eventually returned to their homes after they were denied an easy picking. A few, however, stayed a bit longer and talked to me.

 

A tall woman, who smelled strongly of sugar, approached as me as I sat on a park bench.

 

The woman introduced herself as Baroness Von Bon Bon, a name that fit her appearance like a puzzle piece.  

 

“May I sit?” She asked. I slid to the other side of the bench. It was refreshing to talk to people my own height, it could really strain my neck looking down so much. She sat down next to me and looked my in the eyes.

 

“You, sir, made me lose nearly eighteen thousand dollars in candy three years ago.” She said bluntly. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

 

I, being a little dumbstruck from what she said, said nothing.

 

“Hmm. I would have thought you would’ve retained at least _some_ intelligence. Whatever.” She said, and then reached into a pocket she somehow had on her dress. She pulled out a card, a work card, and handed it to me.

 

“If you ever feel like paying me back, or anybody back, I would recommend you call this later.” She said, getting up. I took the card from her. It had a phone number and read something about a candy company on Isle Two. I looked up from the little piece of paper to see her walking away.

 

“What.” I said intelligently.

 

I looked back at the work card, which I realized also smelled strongly of sugar, and then back at her retreating form.

 

Had I… just gotten a job? What the Hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she's a lesbian I swear  
> no shipping pls
> 
> EDIT: i fixed a few typos that bothered me greatly


	10. Goin' Solo Like A Fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey  
> next chap should be either tomorrow or in a few days  
> no more than a week, at least.

The doctor peeled the old bandages off my head. 

 

“You should have really been sent to a hospital in the first place.” She said, abandoning them into the trash. She traced the cracks that littered my head and sighed. She smeared a glob of goo on my head, which would supposedly help, before wrapping new bandages on.

 

“Anything else?” I asked, tempted to swat her hand away. 

 

“They seem to have chafed a little, that’ll make it even harder for them to close up. We’ll put some cream on them and hope for the best.” She turned around and walked over to a cabinet on the wall. She fiddled with some bottles before returning to me. She handed me a rather large container, which read ‘vaseline' in blockly letters.

 

“Well, thank you. I guess.” I said, looking the container over and standing up to leave. “Where'd you put my clothes?” 

 

She pointed over to the box under the cot I was sitting on and I pulled it out. 

 

“And r-remember mr. Dice, no strenuous activities for a least a few more weeks. You’ve bruised those ribs of yours pretty badly.” She said, leaving the room. I watched her leave. 

 

I hadn’t even known my ribs had been bruised at all, as they were the one thing in my body that wasn’t in constant pain. That award went to my splintered head, which of course was probably never going to heal. Well, there was a chance, but I didn't trust this doctors’  _ reassuring  _ smile. 

 

I slipped on my clothes and left the room as well. I traced my steps back to the lobby and found Mugman still waiting patiently on a bench.

 

“Is everything good? No broken bones?” He asked, not quite serious. 

 

“Nah. Bruised a bunch of shi-  _ stuff  _ though. Gonna take a few months to heal.” I said. 

 

“Oh. That sucks.” He said, looking at his feet.

 

“I didn’t even notice, kid. Let’s get going. This place smells like bleach.” He jumped off the bench, eager to move his legs again, and snatched my hand before I could pull it away. I gave him a look, and he only smiled back at me. 

 

“Why are you so insistent on grabbing me?” I asked him, walking out the building. He snorted like it was obvious.

 

“Because you let me.” He replied, “Now let’s go get ice cream. It’s hot out.” 

 

I was about to object to him before he yanked me with surprising strength across the sidewalk. 

 

“You know, the doctor was saying that I should have gone there sooner. Might’ve helped heal up these cracks in my face.” I said idly, not really paying attention to the scenery. 

 

“Yeah… we probably should have. But we didn’t, kinda for the fact of we didn’t know what people would do when they saw you.” He said. That sounded like an excuse. It was an excuse. I wanted to say as much, but refrained. 

 

“So…” He began. “About them cracks… they ever going to heal?”

 

My mood soured.

 

“She danced around the subject. All maybes with, wouldn't look me in the eye, much less tell it to me strait.”

 

“So you don't know?” Mugman asked.

 

“Nah.”

 

“Well that sucks.” He said. “I hope they heal just a bit more, kinda looks like someone was chewing on you.”

 

“I- probably not? I don't know.” I said. Maybe I  _ did _ get chewed up and spat out. Entirely possible.

 

“Oh hey! There's the ice cream guy!” The kid said, sprinting over to the cart. I dug around in my pockets, looking for something to pay with, all the while ignoring the prickling feeling that began to crawl up my back.

 

I looked behind to see the set of eyes that I had felt on my back, but the grass behind me was barren.

 

* * *

 

 

Cuphead sat in front of me, next to the dumpster. He had at least thirty old discarded magazines in front of him, which he was happily cutting and tearing apart.

 

“How'd your doctor's appointment go?” He asked conversationally.

 

“Eh. Pretty cruddy. Nothing got done and the doctor was scared of me the whole time. Told me stuff I already knew.” I replied. I shifted a bit on the box I was sitting on, trying to ignore the rat that was just across the street, who was also dumpster diving.

 

“Darn.” He said, not really paying attention. He ripped out another picture and shoved it into his bag.

 

The rat across the street suddenly snapped his head upwards, glanced around sharply, and then quickly scampered off. I watched this with strange bemusement.

 

“Hey, who was that?” I asked.

 

“That was just Werner. He likes to look for spare parts in the trash cans, since the dump is Dr. Cahl’s place. They don't get along too well, even though they're both pretty smart.” Cuphead explained. He flung the now mangled magazine behind him and reached for another. 

 

“How do you know that?” 

 

“I asked him. He was pretty nice about it.” 

 

“Why's he in such a rush then?” 

 

“I dunno.” Was all the very busy cup had to say. It was clear to me that Cuphead wasn't really paying attention, and I would likely not be getting a better answer than that.

 

“So, then. You do this often?”

 

Cuphead shook his head no.

 

“Only sometimes, and only when I got someone with me. Elder Kettle doesn't like us going into town by ourselves. Like, we fight everybody on the Isles but we're not allowed to go to the beach alone? I think it's stupid.” He waved his scissors around for emphasis. “And this place only dumps out their old magazines every other month, I think.” 

 

I nodded along with his words. My gaze slowly landed on the trash can that lay on it's side, just across the street. Crunched up papers and discarded food scattered along the sidewalk. 

 

It was definitely not a windy day, seeing as Cuphead could freely cut papers with ease. 

 

But I couldn't come up with another reason as to why the can was emitting a smell like sulfur so strong I could catch the scent ten yards away. 

 

“Do you smell that?” I asked, wincing as the stench stung my nose. 

 

“Smell what?” The kid looked up from his clippings and tried to locate the smell. “The dumpster? Yeah, it's pretty gross.”

 

“Just… hurry up. Let's get back to the house.” I said. 

 

Cuphead mumbled an alright and began shoving as many cut out cars into his pockets as he could. 

 

It probably was just a rotten egg or something. 

 

* * *

 

 

I made the trek back to the house in relatively short time. With Cuphead at my side, though the boy showed signs of tiredness, it was always a guarantee that things tended to go a lot faster than they should have. 

 

I reached the door and nearly ripped off the nob. I stepped inside quickly, ignoring the odd look Cuphead gave me. The whole there it felt as if something had been following us. Following  _ me _ .

 

It was… disorienting, to say the least. 

 

But we made it back home, because I guess this house is as close to home I'm going to get for now.  I collapsed next to the couch, since sitting on it would only make me slouch more. I couldn't help but feel immense  _ relief _ when I had entered, stupid as it was. 

 

Cuphead zoomed inside anyways, even though I had seen him yawning on the way over. He was a stubborn kid, that was for sure. Both the brothers were.

 

I let myself relax as there was a strange… almost alien familiarity in the house. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

 

After a few minutes rest, I heard the old kettle call out there was food ready. I rolled my eyes as the brothers could be heard running to their plates. And… despite how strange and kinda annoying things were, I felt myself smile. 

 

At least there was good food. 

 

* * *

 

 

I woke up at midnight. 

 

That in and of itself wasn't unusual to me, seeing how I was woken up by sightless and soundless nightmares for the past few days of my life. So the two brothers and their guardian wouldn't notice about me wandering around the house in the dark. Probably.

 

What was strange however, and almost unnoticeable, was the pale note taped to the outside of the window. Written in elegant black letters were:

 

_ ‘Come on down to the Devil's’ Casino!’ _

 

Which looked suspiciously like a brochure, but written underneath the ad was an almost hauntingly familiar handwriting. 

 

_ ‘I have what you need, you are what  _ I  _ want. Come and find me King.’  _

 

Which… was both laughably cryptic and mildly horrifying. 

 

Gears in my head began to turn and dots were connected almost immediately. It was the Devil. The Devil wanted to talk, or at least he said so. Scratch that, it was the  _ Devil,  _ this was a trap. Why would the Devil want to trap me? To get to the boys, most likely. A rather stupid plan, but I got the sneaking feeling there was something else at play as well. 

 

I opened the window and ripped the note off of the glass. I shredded it. I was very,  _ very  _ tempted to just leave it at that, forget about and go back to sleep, but something nagged at me.

 

Why now?

 

Why try to retrieve me when it was likely him who threw me out? 

 

_ What game was he playing? _

 

The questions wouldn't leave me alone. And, with a resoluteness that seemed to burn from my very soul, I decided to go.

 

I would have to bring others along, of course, it would be plain stupid to go alone. I could just go wake up the brothers. I was almost certain they could handle the Devil a second time. 

 

With my plan set in place, I froze the moment before my hand touched the door. 

 

What the Hell was wrong with me. 

 

I couldn't bring children into this. Not after they had to fight all their friends already. Not again. It was a mistake that they ended up fighting, or at least that was what they claimed. I couldn't drag them, purposefully pull them, into an affair that could harm them. 

 

A brief thought crossed my mind. Why did I want to protect them? 

 

Because, no matter how much I seemed to forget, I owed them. 

 

And that burning resolution demanded that no debt go unpaid. 

 

Was it foolish? Yes. Was it dangerous? Obviously. Was it downright psychotic? Probably. 

 

But I slipped on my clothes and and left the house. 

 

Alone.

  
I was  _ fucked _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea Dice is being kinda stupid   
> but I love that blockhead anyway dammit


	11. A Fool's Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: new chapter!!! Huzzah!  
> Bad news: it's less than 900 words I'm sorry
> 
> Good/bad news depending how you look at it: this fic has maybe four or five more chapters left. Maybe six at most.

After maybe an hour or so of swift walking through mud and puddles, I arrived.

 

The moon obscured by clouds, it was near impossible to tell the time of night. I walked up the steps and stood in front of the cave. The darkness before me seemed to reach on for eternity. A lesser man would have been tempted to go back, to stop staring what was definitely certain death in the maw, but _God fucking dammit_ I had nearly ran all this way and my legs were sore and I was not going to hike back without knowing this was dealt with.

 

With a sharp intake of breath, I resolved myself.

 

I took a step forward, but my foot never touched the ground. A force seemed to wrap around my leg and before I could react, ripped me into the darkness.

 

“Fucking _shit-!”_ Was my only intelligent response.

 

I was scraped along a stone floor at high speed, and I barely got a glimpse of a huge, rather expensive looking building before I was inside it's doors.

 

A moment passed and where realized I was in the casino.

 

And then everything went black.

 

* * *

 

I knocked on my boss’s door for the fifth time in a minute.

 

Sure was taking his sweet time in there, wasn't he?

 

At last the door unlocked and I turned the ornate handle.

 

“Finally. It's about time we talked about this new place you want set up.” I said, waving the stapled stack of papers at him.

 

The Devil, a very tall, very lean muscular looking thing, (who for some reason had a very blurry face) sat in a large leather chair. A rather gorgeous looking woman was sprawled over his chest as he leaned back, both were looking at each other with mischievous eyes.

 

“Ah, King! How fun it is for you to join us! What is it you were talking about?” The Devil asked, turning away from the woman.

 

“The new plot of land, _sir,_ that we need to _buy_ if we want to build a business there.” I said slowly, like I was talking to a child. The Devil nodded, sighed, and unceremoniously dumped the woman onto the floor next to him. She squealed, looking back up at the demon, before scuttling to the door and leaving. I locked the door behind her.

 

I turned back to the demon and gave him the flattest look I could muster.

 

He laughed, a cruel unyielding laugh to any normal person. But I had been working for far too long, and recognized it was just the Devil being himself.

 

“Let's see those legal papers now.” He said, beckoning me over. I sat in the chair in front of him and slapped the papers down.

 

“I'm going to be blunt. This seems like a terrible fucking idea.” I said. “I mean, seriously! The islands you chose are _tiny_ and barely anybody lives there!”

 

The demon huffed.

 

“So _what?_ There's enough tourism there to make up for that fact, meaning we'll be getting fresh meat delivered to my doorstep practically every _day._ Come on, King! I can feel it in my gut, this place will do _fantastic!_ Since when has my gut been wrong?”

 

“Since always.” I deadpanned. “Remember the Christmas incident? Or the that weird deal you made with the monks? Your gut had really screwed you over then. Don't even get me started on that time in chasm of screams-”

 

“I thought we agreed never to bring up the chasm again.” The Devil said in a hushed voice.

 

“Right, fine. Whatever. That doesn't change the fact that this is overly expensive and literally in the middle of nowhere.”

 

“King! _King!_ Do what the angels say, _and have a little faith.”_ The Devil said, leaning closer to me over the table. “My casino, _our_ casino, it's gonna be worth every penny.”

 

* * *

 

 

Brightness seemed to eat away the drowsiness. The first thing I thought was of how my head hurt more than it ever had, and it felt my brain was trying to claw its way out from within.

 

I managed to pry my eyes open despite the light, and I found myself laying in a bed. A very nice bed. One that was big enough for me. For at least to four of me, actually. I had a nice view of the room surrounding me, and how… purple it was. It was oddly comforting.

 

_Oddly familiar._

 

The second thought I had was that I couldn't move. No, I could move, I just couldn't _get up._ My legs were completely numb, and the numbness seemed to spread and fade out throughout my arms and into my chest. I could move my arms, turn myself a bit, but not well.

 

“Well fuck.” I swore.

 

Nevertheless, I was pissed. Confused and angry, but mostly tired and aching, I waited for someone to enter and explain. Since I couldn't do literally anything else.

 

Time passed, and the drowsiness soon overtook the alarm of waking up someplace strange, and I was thrown back into dreams.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp.


	12. Strange Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello

“Is it him?”   
  


“No, is goddamn Tooth Fairy. Who else would it be!?” 

 

The two rather disgruntled employees muttered to each other in front of the breakroom. One was a tall woman that was almost a ballerina. The other was a mildly disturbing floating 8-ball. 

 

Piroletta rubbed her temples as her companion glanced around nervously. Mangosteen had always been a…  _ weird….  _ thing... ball… person to say the least. 

 

“Just… listen. This is important. Have you heard the news lately?” She asked seriously.

 

“Uhm, no. None of us really get out much.” 

 

“He’s lost his memory, you idiot. He doesn’t know who we are.” She said.

 

“Oh.” Mangosteen said. “ _ Oh _ …” 

 

“Okay, so we know King has always a been dick, right? I don’t think  _ this  _ guy like that.” She said, running her fingers over her head like she was pushing back hair. “See, memory is what makes a person, right? He doesn’t have all experiences that help make him,  _ him _ . He is a… blank slate.” 

 

“What’s that do with me.” The 8-ball asked. Piroletta paced back and forth in front of the door. She stopped abruptly. She snatched Mango by the face before bringing him up close.

 

“What’s this got to do with you? Can’t you see that this is not good deal anymore?!” She said. “The boss has completely gone mad, and we aren’t getting paid. We cannot get our contracts back. I don’t even know how King managed to burn his.” 

 

“So what do you want  _ me  _ to do about that? You're not really giving me a lot of options here.” He said. 

 

“Dice was  _ only  _ person besides damn Devil who knew where those contracts were! He doesn’t know that anymore. We. Can’t. Get.  _ Out _ .” She said, her voice raw. 

 

* * *

  
  


I was startled awake by a slam on the door. My head shot up, and I had to take a moment to remember where I was and what was going on. My head cleared enough in time to catch the door swinging open and a tall dark figure walking calmly forth. He sat at the edge of my bed, reached over with a clawed hand and grabbed my face, and turned me towards him. 

 

I had a serious case of deja vu. 

 

The tall monkey looking creature was as tall or taller than I was, and he had a firm grip that felt stronger than it probably was. This was probably the Devil, I realized slowly. As soon as the thought crossed my mind the demon smiled. 

 

“Mornin’ sunshine.” He said lowly. I tried weakly to pull my head back, but his hand stayed. I still couldn’t move well. I settled on giving him a glare instead. 

 

“What’s the matter, Mr.  _ King  _ Dice, cat got your tongue?” He said, coming uncomfortably close. I managed to lift an arm high enough to, albeit weakly, try and smack him away. He rolled his eyes and remained where he was. 

 

“I want answers.” I said, only now realising how hoarse my voice was. The Devil laughed. 

 

“What’s there to know?” He said, somehow leaning even closer, the bed creaking under him. 

 

“I’m your boss, and you work for me. That’s all it’s ever been.” 

 

There was a pause between us, and all I could think about was how this was not how I imagined the Devil to be. He had strange bags under his eyes and he looked almost… withered. 

 

“Why can’t I move?” I asked, breaking the silence. The devil laughed and quickly leapt off the bed. 

 

“Get some sleep, Mr. Dice, you’re gonna need it. I’ll be back with the paperwork to renew your contract.” He said.

 

“What contract? What’re you talking about? Why can’t I move?!” I asked again. He quickly bolted to the door and left the room, completely ignoring my questions in favor of a foreboding silence. The door clicked shut, and I was left alone. 

 

“Fuck you, Satan.” I muttered, hoping he could hear me.  

 

After a minute or so of nothing, I was sure he was gone for good, or at least for a few minutes. 

 

Plenty of time. 

 

Or it would be, if I could move my damn legs. 

 

I held my hands out, flexing my fingers. They responded, a bit better than before I noted, but were still slow. I felt like I was drugged, but my mind felt fine. My legs were completely numb, and I had a suspicion part of it was due to sleep. 

 

I needed to move, I was not going to wait around for whatever this contract thing he was bringing back. I pushed my elbows beneath me, andusing my the slight control I had over my torso, rolled myself off the bed. 

 

I hit the floor with a thud. 

 

My vision swam, and for a moment I feared I would pass out again. But the dizziness passed, and I soon found myself a few feet away from the foot of a dresser. I dug my fingers into the carpet in front of me, and with all the strength I had, dragged. It was ungodly slow, but I eventually made myself appear in front of the dark oak wood. 

 

Having the room actually tailored to my size was a detriment here, while the doorknobs in Kettle’s house would likely be closer to my hand at the moment, the handle on this door might as well have been on the ceiling. 

 

But I was not going to be deterred.    
  


There was this little round table next to the door, with various loose papers and a dead plant on top. I used the thin metal bars to climb up, the rest of my body dragging behind me. My hand breached the table top’s surface, and I practically wrestled my chest upwards and then on top of it. I let out a heave of air as my lungs were compressed. 

 

I, as quickly as I could, snatched the door handle and turned. 

 

_ “-ually knows nothing about this place.” _

 

I froze. I held my breath as the unknown voice continued. 

 

“So what? It’s not like we can do anything about that anyway.” Another voice said, sounding deeper.

 

The first voice, a woman, responded in a thick accent.

 

“I’ve got to try. This job pays  _ garbage _ . I need out, and since you insist on following me, you’re going to help me.” She said.

 

My mind swam. Who were these people? Why did they sound so… haggard?

 

The other, a male, sighed before apparently leaning on the door. The door jerked under the unexpected weight, knocking my hand off. My knuckle fell and before I could regain motor control, smacked against the metal table beneath me. 

 

I let out a barely audible  _ “Christ!”,  _ which became my undoing. The talking abruptly stopped. 

 

They must’ve heard me. 

 

I stared as the golden nob started to turn, and my hand snapped forward at a speed I didn’t think I was capable of at the moment and refused to let go.

 

The knob stopped turning.  

 

This posed a major problem. These people definitely knew I was in here, There was no way they couldn’t.

 

The handle started to turn, but only after I gave my arm slack. 

 

If they opened this door, it would depend solely on them and their goals on how my visit here would play out.

 

We ended up both turning the knob in sync, the door creaking loudly in the silence. 

 

I would never admit it, but I was almost scared of what lay behind that wooden door. 

 

The door opened at last, revealing a tall woman, a hallway and what appeared to be an eldritch horror. 

 

“He’s awake!” The thing said. The woman, who I realized was a roulette wheel, leaned in close and stared me in the eyes. Not wanting to be intimidated, I stared right back. She then nodded, a small, almost unnoticeable movement that was likely only for me. She stepped forward and swung the door open in the process, and in a second she scooped me up under her arm and we were down the hall at high speeds. 

 

“Hey! Hold on a second-” I shouted, but the woman quickly clamped my mouth shut. I was not getting kidnapped  _ again _ . Not without a fight. I struggled in her arms, which weren’t exactly like steel but something similar. 

 

As we were about to descend a flight of stairs, I managed to pry my arm out from under her hand. A small miracle in and of itself, but it was a stroke luck when my outstretched arm smacked her in the jaw and stunned her.

 

It was only for a second, but my muscles had been slowly waking up one by one and the adrenaline was waking me up better than any coffee, and I managed to rip myself out of her hold entirely and swing onto her back. She yelped, not expecting that, and I had just enough time to brace myself as the 8-ball rammed into my side, knocking us both over. 

 

She took the brunt of the fall, but I took the impact, and we slid across the floor and slipped onto the first stair. I was winded, but she recovered fast. With a grace and agility of a ballerina she stood up from under me and stomped on my chest. 

 

It was then that I was reminded of my bruised ribs. 

 

“H-holy fuck-!” I wheezed, “Jesus Christ, I yield! Yield!” 

 

“You need to shut up!” The woman hissed, leaning down over him, her heel digging into my shirt. I felt something, or rather heard, a crack from somewhere under her shoe. 

 

_ “Get off!” _ I said through my teeth.    
  
She did so, stepping off my chest and letting sweet air back into my lungs. I gasped, but her hand returned over my mouth and I had every intention of biting her until I heard heavy footsteps down the hall.

 

In a blink of an eye I was stuffed in a closet with the ball person, the woman’s feet -Piroletta’s feet- visible through the crack of the door.    
  
“Ms. Salvov, what brings you up here?” I recognized the voice. It was the Devil. 

 

“I’m on break.” She replied.

 

“No, no you’re not. Get back to work and quit trying to get in my business.” The Devil said, his voice sounding harsher. 

 

“Fine. Like I wanted to be in your business anyway.” She said. I heard footsteps begin to walk down the stairs, but she must’ve turned around because she then asked, “Why  _ did  _ you kick out Mr. Dice, anyway?” 

 

I heard a huff of disdain.

 

“ _ Like I wanted to be in your business anyway!”  _ The Devil mocked. “It doesn’t matter.”

 

“I think it does.” 

 

There was a pause, and the only sound I could hear was the faint thunder of my heart.

 

“My hand slipped.” Was the Devil’s simple answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive
> 
> also Piroletta's last name Salvov and she has a mildly Russian accent


End file.
